


apologies

by ElizaLane



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Families of Choice, Forgiveness, Gen, Parental Sam | Awesamdude, Protective Sam | Awesamdude, Sad Sam | Awesamdude, Sick TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-22 22:21:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30045633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElizaLane/pseuds/ElizaLane
Summary: Tommy and Sam owe each other an apology, but Tommy gets sick.
Relationships: Sam | Awesamdude & TommyInnit
Comments: 4
Kudos: 247





	apologies

Tommy is tired. He hasn’t slept in- in- in god knows how long. He stayed awake as long as he could while he was in the prison. He’s also incredibly hungry and he smells bad and his head hurts so much. The wound had scabbed over ages ago, but it still aches like hell. 

So when Conner’s finally out of Tommy's house, he eats Sam’s pity steak and sleeps for what he thinks is fourteen hours. When Tommy wakes up, he eats again, carrots this time, and takes a shower, and then he goes back to sleep. 

When Tommy wakes up the second time, he feels terrible. His head still hurts, and his arm hurts too. When he sits up, he can feel his last meal coming back up. Tommy scrambles clumsily to the bathroom and empties his stomach. 

None of his thoughts are coherent beyond _Sam promised to protect you._ Sam. Tommy knows how to get to Sam’s base. He can go there and Sam’s not allowed to hurt him. Sam said that Tommy is allowed at his base. 

Tommy doesn’t quite remember the trip to Sam’s house, but he’s there now. He opens the door and makes it three feet in before he collapses against a wall. 

_I can close my eyes for just a minute_ , Tommy thinks. 

Sam is having a terrible day. He had failed Tommy again. He had left Tommy in the prison for god knows how long, alone with Dream and next to no food. He’s a failure. Tommy was right. Sam shouldn’t have the prison. Sam doesn’t deserve Tommy’s forgiveness or trust, and he never will.

That doesn’t stop Sam from caring about Tommy, though. But Tommy’s nowhere to be found, and he’s not answering his communicator. He had looked awful when Sam had gotten him out of the cell. His hair was streaked with blood and dirt, and he was holding his arm oddly. Sam would never be able to stop seeing the hurt and the hate in Tommy’s eyes when he looked at Sam. 

Sam finally caves into his exhaustion and retreats to his base. Fran will be able to give him some level of comfort. At least he’s managed to protect her. 

The door of the base opens and Sam steps in to see-

Tommy slumped bonelessly on the floor. His left arm is still bent unnaturally, but he looks cleaner than before. The bags under his eyes are bigger and his cheeks are still hollow. In proper lighting, Sam can see that Tommy’s hair has turned white and that he’s terribly pale.

Sam hurries over and presses his fingers to Tommy’s neck, not breathing as he searches for a pulse. Sam sighs in relief when he finds it. Tommy hadn’t flinched when Sam had touched him, so Sam decides not to wake him. 

“Oh, Tommy,” Sam breathes, heartbroken. Tommy’s probably only here to yell at Sam again, but Sam still scoops him up, one arm under Tommy’s knees and the other just under his armpit. Tommy’s face scrunches as Sam moves his left arm to rest on Tommy’s stomach. He doesn’t wake, though, and Sam grows more concerned. 

Setting a child’s arm isn’t something Sam thought he would ever have to do, but here he is, splinting Tommy’s arm and wrapping it. Tommy stirs and Sam immediately moves to soothe him. “You’re okay, honey, you’re fine. It’s okay. I won’t hurt you,” he murmurs softly. Tommy softens again, but he’s sweating. 

Sam slides a sling around Tommy and tucks his arm into it. He lays a hand on Tommy’s head and jerks it backwards at the heat. 

“Oh, no,” Sam whispers. “Oh, Toms, what happened to you?” Sam knows that he’s not going to get an answer. He lays Tommy on Sam’s own bed and tucks him in. He lays a cold cloth on the kid’s head and Sam settles in to keep watch over him. 

Tommy wakes coherently to a familiar voice and an unfamiliar room. Tommy’s not sure who’s talking, but whoever it is is reading a storybook. Tommy’s still drowsy, but he’s so hungry and thirsty. There are blankets covering him, up to his chin, but he’s still cold. The cold on his forehead is nice, though. He’s not sure that he wants to interrupt the other person, so he stays quiet for a while longer. 

“The end,” the person says. Tommy can’t make his voice work, so he hums as loudly as he can. 

“Toms?” the person asks. Tommy hears footsteps and sees a hazy green figure standing over him. “Are you awake?” 

Tommy hums again, then says, “Water?” 

“Of course, sweetheart,” the person says gently. “I’ll be right back.” 

The green person leaves and Tommy feels his absence sharply until a white shape jumps up on the bed with him and nuzzles him with a wet nose. 

“Stop,” he rasps, but he smiles anyway. 

“Fran,” the nice green person says. “Leave him alone. Here’s a cup and a straw. Do you need help sitting up?” 

Tommy nods and lets the person help him. He still can’t think of their name. He lets them hold the straw to his face and drinks slowly and gratefully. 

“Does your throat hurt, hun?” the person asks. 

Tomy nods again, but quickly regrets it. He feels too nauseous to do that again. 

“”I have some honey for that,” the person offers. “Do you need help with that too?” 

“Yes,” Tommy whispers. 

The person holds a spoon to Tommy’s lips and helps him eat it. If Tommy weren’t so tired, he’d be humiliated. 

The person is comforting and Tommy finally remembers who they are. 

“Dad,” he whispers. “Hug?” 

“Oh, sweetie,” Dad says, sounding sadder than Tommy’s ever heard. “Of course you can have a hug.” Dad wraps Tommy in his arms and Tommy slumps into him. 

“‘Sorry I was mean,” Tommy mumbles. “‘Didn’t mean it. I l’ve you.” 

“I love you too, Toms,” dad says, his body shaking. 

Tommy falls asleep again before he can hear anything else. 

Much to Sam displeasure, Tommy isn’t that coherent again for weeks. He wakes up for long enough to eat and drink and have a potion, but he doesn’t get better. He doesn’t get worse either. 

Sam can’t stop thinking about Tommy calling him ‘dad.’ He thinks that he did the right thing in comforting the poor kid and letting him believe that his real dad was there for him. 

Tommy’s arm has healed mostly, but Sam is worried about whether he’ll ever regain the strength in it. Sam’s been sleeping in a pile of blankets on the floor of his room just in case Tommy wakes up at night. Tommy doesn’t eat much, but he doesn’t puke either, and he’ll be awake enough to make bathroom trips alone a few times a day. He doesn’t talk, though. The welts around his neck when Sam found him made Sam think that Tommy would never speak normally again. 

When Tommy finally does talk again, it’s still raspy, but Sam wakes up to him talking to Fran. 

“You’re such a good girl,” he hears Tommy coo. “The best girl in the world. Better than the queen.”

“Toms?” Sam calls softly, pulling himself up on the foot of the bed. 

“Hi, Sam,” the boy responds, and Sam lets out a sob of relief. 

“Oh, Tommy, I was so worried,” he says through tears. “Do you need anything? Water, food, another blanket?” 

“A hug,” Tommy demands, almost whining. 

“Of- of course, darling, of course,” Sam says, hurrying to hug his boy. “I’m so sorry, Tommy.” 

“Good,” Tommy whispers leaning into Sam. “Thanks. For helping me.” 

“You’re welcome,” Sam says. 

“What all was wrong with me?” Tommy asks, pulling away. 

“Your arm was pretty bad. It was broken. Not bad enough to need surgery, though. You were sick, too, and there was that nasty head wound.” 

“Okay.” 

They sit in silence. Tommy grabs Sam’s hand. 

“You’re not allowed to leave me again,” he says simply, like it’s a fact of life. “I want you to stay.” 

“I’ll be here as long as you want me, Toms. I love you,” Sam says, a little desperate. “More than anything.” 

“I love you too, um, Dad,” Tommy whispers. 

Sam knows that this isn’t going to be easy. There are days when Tommy can’t eat anything and when Sam has to check his pulse and they can’t function away from each other. There are days when Tommy can’t sleep without thinking he’s back in the death zone. There are nights when Sam closes his eyes to see Tommy’s dead body, surrounded by his own blood, and Sam hears Dream laughing. Tommy’s hair never went back to its natural blond and his voice never recovers. Tommy can never yell again. 

But there are good days, too. When Tommy can go and laugh with Tubbo and Ranboo. When Sam can sweep up his son into a massive hug and spin him around. It’s not perfect, but Sam thinks that it’s close enough. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> This is kinda self-indulgent, but also sad. I just want a happy story and canon isn't giving it to me.
> 
> Edit: I changed afterlife to death zone during the stream when Tommy called it that.


End file.
